


Showers and Confessions

by Featherbelle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, mention of past injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2299562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Featherbelle/pseuds/Featherbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off a couple of imagines about taking/sharing a shower with Sam Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Showers and Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: I tend to use songs when I write, so…songs used in the writing of this fic: “When You’re Gone” by Avril Lavigne; “Can’t Find My Way Home” by House of Lords; “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love” by Taylor Dayne; “Ready for Love” by Bad Company; “Kiss You All Over” by Exile

The boys and I rolled into town at three in the morning. That last hunt was a pain in all our asses and we were all exhausted. Since we were in the small Texas town of Mansfield, which was just south of Dallas, I suggested the boys stay at my place in New Orleans, which was eight hours away. Sam had turned around and gawked at me in astonishment. “You have a house?” 

I grinned back and leaned over the seat to whisper in his ear. “Yeah, Sam, I do. And best of all? It has _two full bathrooms_.” What I left unspoken but Sam knew already was the part about _no more waiting on Dean for a shower and wondering if he left any hot water._

Sam and I had gotten pretty sick of lukewarm – at best – showers, so we had just said to hell with it and started sharing showers. That worked out pretty well for us, actually. Especially after really bad hunts where we got particularly filthy. It’s not that easy to wash monster blood and guts off in cold water. But we also had to put up with the inevitable teasing from Dean. At first we took turns telling him off, but the more we denied that there was anything between us, the worse he got. So we finally just gave up and shut up.

Then came a nasty wendigo hunt where Sam got hurt pretty badly. Dean and I managed to roast the sorry SOB and get Sam back to the car. I held Sam in my lap in the backseat, tending to him as best I could in the confines of the darkened Impala with the first aid kit while Dean drove back to the motel like a bat out of hell. Sam was drifting in and out of consciousness and mumbling incoherently. At one point I heard my name and jerked out of the trancelike state I’d gotten into while tending Sam’s wounds. “Sammy?” I called tearfully. I’d been trying to deny it, to Dean, Sam and worst of all myself, but this had shown me I had to quit lying to all of us. I loved Sam and was scared to death for him. “Love you…” he said softly, and then his eyes closed. My heart stopped.

“ _Dean!_ ” I screamed.

I felt the car jerk and lurch as we swung into the parking lot and Dean slammed on the brakes in front of our room. Dean hauled his unconscious brother off my lap and I stumbled out of the car. Staggering into the room with the first aid kit in my hands, I was floored to see Dean performing CPR on his brother. “ _Sam!”_ I fell to my knees beside the bed and took over the breathing while Dean, who was obviously stronger, concentrated on the compressions. A few moments later we were rewarded by Sam coughing and struggling to sit up. Dean and I unanimously decided we were taking a break in hunting while Sam rested up and got better. And that was when I quit lying to myself and admitted I was desperately in love with Sam Winchester.

And now, several weeks later, I had Sam in my house, almost all to myself. I just had to figure out a way to tell him. I had shown the boys around my two-story abode, two guest bedrooms and one bath plus den, kitchen and laundry room downstairs, with my bedroom, office, another bathroom and what I jokingly called my sitting room, upstairs. Dean was making himself at home in one of the downstairs bedrooms and Sam was getting cleaned up in my bathroom. I fidgeted while gathering clean things from my dresser and two towels from the linen closet. Yes, Sam had mumbled the ‘L’ word to me, but he’d been half unconscious at the time, and after he’d recovered he seemingly had no memory of it because he had not said a single word about it. I was quite likely about to make a huge fool out of myself. Shrugging, I trudged toward the bathroom. So what? I had some friends that owned a bar over in the Quarter. I had done some waitressing for them during my own stint in college. Probably wouldn’t be all that hard to get my foot back in the door, if need be. But I thought I owed it to myself, and to Sam, to give this a try first.

Stepping into the now steam-filled bathroom, I kicked Sam’s dirty clothes out into the hall and closed the door. I set my own things on the counter and stripped out of my mud and blood encrusted clothing, dropping it all to the floor where Sam’s had been. Wishing fervently that I had grabbed some liquid courage from my bar downstairs, I took a deep breath, grabbed the shower curtain, and stepped inside.

Sam stood underneath the showerhead, water streaming down his muscled body and chuckled. “I was wondering when you were going to show up.”

I gaped at him. “What?”

His even white teeth flashed at me. “We always shower together. Why quit now?” he asked as he grabbed me by my shoulders and spun me around.

“Sam, what are you doing?” I asked, and moments later I had my answer. I felt the water from the detachable showerhead flow over me and one of Sam’s large hands on my head. Then I heard him put the showerhead back, and felt him massaging shampoo into my hair. He guided me beneath the spray and rinsed the shampoo from my hair, and then repeated the process with conditioner. I turned around to face him and crossed my arms over my chest. “What is going on, Sam?”

“This,” he said, and cupping my cheek with one hand, he pulled me against him and kissed me. Hot, open mouthed kisses where our tongues danced and his teeth scraped against my skin. His free hand tangled itself in my hair and gripped my head tight to hold me to him. Like I wanted to go anywhere else. I wrapped my arms around his waist, moaning when he nibbled his way down my neck. “ _Sam!_ ”

He laughed darkly. “Like that, do you, baby?”

“God, yes,” I gasped.

His warm breath at my ear, he whispered, “That’s nothing.” His lips and teeth grazed the other side of my neck, while one of his hands stole its way down between my thighs. He slowly lowered himself to his knees while his lips burned their way down my body. His fingers played with my folds until I nearly lost my balance. Again, he laughed, the dark, rich sound filling the small room. I put my hands on his shoulders, somehow knowing he was far from done playing with me.

A guttural moan ripped from my throat when he slid two fingers inside me and began to move them insistently. I was fast losing presence of mind. “Sam…why?” I asked. He took my mouth with his own again, his tongue shoving past my lips. I sucked on his tongue and pushed my body against his, my breasts crushed against his chest. My arms wrapped around his neck and held him tightly to me as he replied, “You think I don’t remember that wendigo hunt?”

His fingers moved faster within me, and I felt him harden against me. “I remember. That bastard nearly killed me. But you saved me. You held me and fought for my life. I told you I love you in the backseat of the Impala. I thought I was dying, and I didn’t think I’d get another chance to say anything.” His head fell forward and buried itself in my neck. “When you never said anything about it, I thought maybe you didn’t feel the same.” His lips found me again and sucked hard. I felt his teeth on my skin. I knew there would be a mark there tomorrow, and I smiled.

“God, no, Sam,” I told him. “I nearly came unglued when you lost consciousness in my lap like that. I don’t know when, but somewhere along the way, I’ve fallen in love with you. If you had died that night…” I broke off, remembering the thoughts that had gone through my mind. I shook them off and pulled Sam’s head up to face me. “I love you, Sam Winchester.” Smirking, I told him, “Now stop playing around, and make me yours already.”

Sam lifted me into his arms and without being told, I wrapped my legs around him. I felt him push himself into me slowly, and his eyes locked with mine. “I love you,” he said, trapping me between the cool tiles at my back and his hot body. Thanks to his hand, I was already pretty close to losing it, and with every slow, deep thrust, I was practically mindless. “ _Sammmm…._ ” I whimpered, as he took my arms and held them above my head. His hazel gaze bore into mine. “Say it again,” he demanded hotly as he pounded into me. “I love you, Sam!” I wailed as he threw me over the edge, my inner muscles clenching hard around him. He groaned and with one final shove, he sank to the floor of the tub, holding me tight in his arms.

Sam kissed me hot and slow, his hands running over my back. “I love you too.”

The water had grown cold now, but I was too boneless to care. Sam smiled and reached up for my body wash and pouf, gently but quickly scrubbing my body clean. I reached up a hand and let him haul me to my feet and reciprocated the gesture. Sam shut off the shower and we got out. Sam grabbed my towels and wrapped up my hair in one, and briskly dried me off with the other. Then he took his time dressing me, kissing the dark curls between my legs as he pulled my panties up my legs. Then he drew the t-shirt I’d stolen from him over my head, and kissed my lips softly.

Picking up my discarded towel, he dried his body then unwrapped my hair. Briskly, Sam ran the towel over my hair until the excess water was gone, then gave his own shoulder-length hair a cursory rub with the towel. Smiling, he picked me up in his arms and carried me down the hall to my bedroom. Sam set me down on my feet and peeled back the covers. I crawled inside, and he climbed in beside me. I curled into his body, my head on his chest. He tightened his arm around me, and I felt his lips in my hair. “You get plenty of rest.”

I smiled, having an inkling of where this was going. “I always try to, but is there any particular reason you want me well rested?”

“You don’t seriously think I was done with you in there, do you?” he asked, laughing softly.

“I hope to hell not!” I laughed back, leaning up to give him a passionate kiss. And I wasn’t done with Sam Winchester either. Not by a long shot.


End file.
